74th Hunger Games: The Girl With The Knives
by HungahGames922
Summary: We know Katniss's story. We know that she won. But do we know everything about the girl who almost ended her life twice? This is the story of sixteen year old Clove, the girl with the knives.
1. The Last Day

**Intro:**

**I've decided to write about one of the most interesting tributes in my opinion, Clove. She was so important to the story of the Hunger Games, and I was interested in creating my own back story to her, and what she was doing and thinking from the moment she was reaped to the moment she dies in the 74th Hunger Games. This is not a Clato Fanfiction. Although there is romantic tension between Cato and Clove throughout this story, it does not focus on their relationship the entire time.**

**I hope you all enjoy this story that is currently in progress. I am also working on an SYOT story about the 99th Annual Hunger Games that I'm about 3/4 finished with. Anyways, I'll let you begin this story :)**

* * *

Today's the last day of training; since tomorrow's the day everyone in District 2 is anticipating. The reaping is one of the most celebrated ceremonies that happens once a year. Every boy and girl in our District gathers in the main square that sits directly in the center of District 2. Then, two names will be called out. The child, who is between the ages of twelve and eighteen, is scared for only the briefest of moments before someone bellows out the famous words of our District. I volunteer.

I'm only sixteen, so my time to volunteer isn't just yet. Although, even if I volunteered tomorrow at the reaping, I'm sure I'd have no trouble becoming the victor. The Taylor family is famous for their share of tributes. My Grandmother, May Taylor, was the victor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games. She was the first female tribute from District 2 to come home as the victor. She gave birth to my mother, Cat Taylor, about twenty years after she become victor. My mother was trained to fight in the Games and volunteered at the age of eighteen, which is when volunteering usually happened.

My mother was beautiful, which is why she had many boyfriends. Those boyfriends blessed her with my life. At eighteen, she had me as a child only a year old at the time, and she volunteered for the 57th Hunger Games, with all hopes of coming back and raising me to who I am today. But she never returned.

She took a knife straight through the heart, placing fifth in the Games. The alliance that traditionally forms from Districts 1, 2, and 4, had managed to kill every other tribute, while only losing the girl from 1 along the way. But once the alliance broke to determine the victor that year, my mother came too close to the girl from 4 who threw a knife deep into her heart.

I don't remember much about my mother. I only know what she looks like because I've seen so many reruns of the 57th Games. I really do look a lot like her. Short, dark brown hair that falls straight down my back, freckles scattered across my face. The only thing different about us is I plan on winning when I enter the arena.

This year will be the 74th time twenty four tributes will fight to the death. This year, my training friend Cato plans on volunteering to go into the Games. After watching him train since I was eight years old, I know he's definitely going to win. There's no doubt about it. Today, I'm going to talk to him about his strategy and how he plans on winning. If he comes out of there, which he will, I want him as a mentor in two years when I volunteer.

I leave my small house and say goodbye to my grandmother, who I've lived with since my mother died; since I was just a year old. She kisses my cheek and gives me words of encouragement to get through the day, because over the years, training gets a little boring.

I walk down the street and hop on the train that transports people all over the district. I've heard this train system was a gift to District 2 for their constant victory over the years in the Games. The only other districts that have trains are Districts 1 and 4. Not a surprise, really. We're the best ones.

These trains don't travel as fast as the Capitol trains, though. It takes about an hour just to get to the station where the training center is. When I get there, I go through the main doors and take the elevator down to the locker rooms. When the elevator door opens, Avette Jensen is being carried away on a stretcher. I stare in shock as she looks unconscious. I walk over to the locker room entrance as a few medics take her up to the main floor, probably to the nearest hospital. As soon as I get into the locker room, the other girls who train here are huddled in a circle, talking. I must be late.

"Clove!" shouts Brit, a skinny, blond girl who trains with me. She comes over to hug me tightly, a little bit of fear within her. I ask her what happened with Avette and she starts explaining immediately, the other girls nodding their heads as she goes.

"Avette was training early this morning without the coaches, and she was on the climbing wall when she slipped. She was almost at the top, and she fell, like, twenty feet or something! One of the coaches found her lying there like an hour later and her leg was completely twisted. She was supposed to volunteer tomorrow!"

Then I realize what's so shocking.

"Avette is the only eighteen year old. And the rest of us aren't old enough to volunteer, based on what the coaches tell us. So the girl tribute could be anyone this year! I swear, if District 2 is represented by some frilly little girl, I'm going to ask Cato to kill her straight away. What an embarrassment to the rest of us!" I announce.

Farrell, one of the female coaches, comes through the door and tells us all to get out into the gym with her usual harsh tone. I realize I haven't changed yet and dash over to my locker and change as quickly as I can. I tie up my hair and throw my other clothes in my locker before jogging out to the main gym. When I get there, everyone's standing in a circle around Farrell and Harris, a big, burly coach who trains the boys.

I see Cato and give him a friendly smile as he stands next to Vick, the other eighteen year old who plans on challenging Cato for the spot as tribute.

"Alright, thanks for finally joining us, Clove," says Harris, "Now, before we start the annual showdown of the volunteers, we have some sad news."

Everyone starts looking around. The girls know what happened, and the boys are starting to catch on when they notice Avette is missing.

"Where's Avette?" asks Cato sternly. Harris silences him with a finger as he continues, "Avette Jensen will not be volunteering this year. She got in an awful accident this morning because she was breaking our rules. This is just proof that listening to us will be the only way you achieve success. Now that she will not be volunteering, we have some business to discuss."

Now Farrell cuts in, "Would the seventeen year old girls please step forward."

As she says this, Kira and Ariel step forward, both of them looking very nervous about what they might be told to do.

"Are either of you confident enough to volunteer this year?" asks Farrell. Both of them immediately shake their heads.

"I need another year. There's no way," says Ariel in protest.

"Well then I guess that means the female whose name gets picked this year will be our representative for the Games. Now, if you two decide to think on it, go ahead and volunteer. But I don't want anyone younger volunteering."

Farrell looks at me now, and I smirk, knowing she thinks I'm ready, but doesn't want me volunteering anyway. I know I'm good, but I would never volunteer the same year as Cato. I want the both of us to survive.

"Now then, let's get things settled and find our volunteer for the boys. Cato, Vick, if you would join me in the center ring. Every year, the trainees at the age of eighteen of the same gender have a battle to see who will volunteer as the tribute. They use foam weapons of course, and the first one on the ground loses. Even if they still wanted to volunteer, it wouldn't be smart. By the time they're on the ground, they're pretty weakened from the showdown.

Harris brings Cato and Vick together, both looking determined. The two of them are great friends, so to see them looking angry at each other is an odd sight. But both value this moment much more than they value each others friendship; because just like the Games can only have one victor, our gym can only have one volunteer. I'm not looking forward to fighting with Brit. We're both the same size, but Brit's very handy with a spear. Even if I beat her, I'd feel so bad about ruining her dream.

Before I know it, Harris has left the small ring around Cato and Vick and a bell goes off. Cato wields a foam sword, and Vick has a broad foam axe. Vick charges at Cato and the two just have at each other. Bruises are given to both, and Cato has finally had enough when he kicks Vick in the chest, forcing him down onto the ground.

"That was fast," admits Harris. Vick looks devastated, but I can't help but smile and be happy for Cato. He's finally secured his spot as a tribute this year, which means District 2 will have it's victor for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, no matter who he's up against.

"Alright everyone," says Farrell as Cato helps Vick back onto his feet, "We'll commence three more hours of training, and then it's back home for the reaping tomorrow. As you know, our reaping is one of the first, so it's at seven in the morning. Don't be late."

Everyone starts to wander off to different training stations. I look back at Cato and see a huge smile across his face. What a show off. I giggle as Brit and I go around and do some training.

"Alright Brit," I say after a while, "I haven't done knives in a few days. I miss them." Brit just laughs and shoos me away while she goes over to the spears. When I get to the knife station that's surrounded by targets and dummies, I line up and start hitting each one. My first lodges into the head of a dummy about twenty feet off, the other into the bull's eye of a target ten feet farther. I've thrown five knives when someone starts clapping behind me.

"Still going strong, I see," says Cato. He smiles and I blush slightly. Cato's one of the biggest flirts I've ever met. I just try to ignore it sometimes. After all, I've never been big on romance.

"Nice job today," I say honestly. He thanks me and then there's a small period of silence before he asks what made me choose knife throwing as my specialty. I think about it, and in all honesty, it's because seeing my mom die truly made me realize how dominant throwing knives is to any other specialty. It's right up there with archery, which I never got a hang of. If I did, I'd probably have taken that up instead.

"No real reason," I lie, "Just for the longer range, I guess." Cato nods in understanding and grabs a knife from the rack next to me. He grips it tightly and lets it fly at a target only ten feet away, missing almost completely. I laugh hysterically with a little snort at the end that makes him laugh.

"Good thing you never took this up. You're better with a sword." We talk for a little while longer before it's time to go. It's probably almost lunch time, anyway. We all get changed, and I talk to Brit about our showdown that'll happen exactly two years from now. I'm already getting butterflies from the thought. At lunch, the two of us sit with Cato and Vick, who really doesn't seem interested in talking at all. I wouldn't be either.

"Let's hope neither of you get picked tomorrow," Cato says.

"I'm not too worried," says Brit, "Both our names are only in three times each. Tesserae aren't necessary in District 2."

After lunch, we go back to the locker rooms to get our things and return home. I say goodbye to Cato and Brit and wish Cato the best of luck, since I probably won't be speaking with him between now and the time he volunteers. But it's not sad. I have so much confidence that he'll be coming back.

On the train, I fall asleep. I'm woken up by a conductor at my station. He must recognize me to know what station I get off at. No surprise, since I ride this train almost every day after school. But every school in District 2 has off the day before and the day of the reaping.

When I walk into my house, my grandmother is watching an interview with the famous Caesar Flickerman and this year's Head Gamemaker. I look at him and notice he interestingly shaven beard.

"Listen Clove, this man knows what he's doing. You'd better hope he sticks around two more years for your Games. I can see it already. He's shaking hands with Clove Taylor: Victor of the 76th Annual Hunger Games."

I laugh. My grandmother's a little crazy. I think she's always been that way. She turns off the television and tells me to go upstairs to try on some dresses for the reaping. People in District 2 go all out for the reaping attire, and even though I won't be volunteering this year, it's common courtesy to look my best anyway.

I get upstairs and find a thin white spring dress that ties into a bow around the waist lying on my bed. It looks beautiful. I almost want to save it for when I actually have to stand in front of the people of my District.

"I love it," I tell grandma as she comes in and hugs me. We spend the rest of the day watching interviews and specials on the 74th Annual Hunger Games. The Capitol citizens are all throwing massive parties and parades. They really do get excited for this thing; even more excited than we do here in District 2.

Then I start thinking about who the female tribute might be this year.

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Reaping (In Progress)**


	2. The Reaping

I wake up on the morning of the reaping on a warm bed. I can already tell it's hot outside, and I won't look nearly as good as I thought now that I'll probably be sweating through my dress. District 2 is in the southwest portion of Panem, just south of District 1, which lies beneath the Capitol.

I crawl out of bed and hold up my white dress which I moved to a chair before getting into bed last night. I bet lots of girls are actually nervous this year. There's not going to be anyone to save them their embarrassment this time.

I walk to the bathroom where grandma is putting her hair up in a bun. She looks ready to go already.

"It's about time you woke up. The reaping's in an hour. That means you'd better be ready to head to the main square in a half hour." Grandma's on the balls of her feet today. The Games always get her excited. I would be too if I were a victor. Getting to see who joins the family of victors. Grandma has lots of other friends who mentor the tributes. This year, she isn't mentoring, but she did two year ago, and she's already signed up to be my mentor for the 76th Games.

When she leaves the bathroom, I hop in the shower, clean myself off, and dry myself before putting up my hair. I slide into my dress and start working on my face to make it look like I'm not as groggy as I'm feeling. A little makeup never hurt anyone. After that, I put my hair back down, dry it off a little more with a towel, and let it fall over my shoulders.

"You need to do something with that hair. It's gotten long over this year," she says through the door frame. She's holding my shoes in one hand and pointing at my hair with the other. I decide to pull it into a tight ponytail and she finds it satisfying. By the time I get my shoes on, it's time to go.

The Justice Building is in the center of the district. It's about a fifteen minute train ride from our house. On the train, there are other kids my age looking a little nervous, especially some of the girls who must have been tipped off about the lack of female volunteers this year.

The train pulls into the station in front of the Justice Building, where a shiny metallic train from the Capitol sits on the track next to ours. It must have just arrived, since it's still making a sort of humming noise.

Grandma kisses my head and lets me go off to sign in and stand with the other sixteen year old girls. She's going to go stand in the back and cheer for Cato when he volunteers. I think he's been bragging nonstop since yesterday morning. Practically the whole district is talking about him as I overhear their conversations.

When I get to the sign up table, they stick a needle in my finger and press it down on the book full of bloody fingerprints. They confirm me, and call for the next person. I walk off to face the Justice Building where most of the kids have already congregated. By seeing the amount of fingerprints already in the book, I'd say I'm one of the stragglers who came a little late. Not surprising, I always tend to be the last person to show up to things. Brit walks over and stands next to me, giving me a half smile. Both of us are anxious to know who the unlucky girl will be this year, but I think we're both afraid to hear our own names called out. I haven't even given it much thought until now, when the District 2 escort from the Capitol walks out on stage.

"Welcome future tributes!" she bellows quite loudly into the microphone. I sigh. This is her third year as District 2's escort, and she's still a little too excited about being assigned to our District. I remember when I was thirteen and it was her first time, she nearly fell off the stage when a boy volunteered. Too bad he didn't come home.

Our escort's name is Doris Green. Except there's nothing green about her. Her entire outfit is a sickening mustard yellow, and her hair is more of a sunny yellow. Luckily, her teeth don't match. Her skin is a pasty sort of purple that makes her look sick. Everything about her screams the Capitol. She starts talking about how excited she is before she welcomes our Mayor, whose name I always forget. He gives the speech that's necessary for us to remember the Dark Days and the Treaty of Treason. Then there's a short clip that always plays about the Hunger Games, and we're quickly moving on to picking the names of the tributes.

"Now, let's start with the girls." Every girl in the crowd takes a breath at the same time, but it's let out in a quick sigh as she, for some reason, crosses over to the left where the boys' names are. I roll my eyes, a couple people laugh, others scream out at her for being such an idiot. As she's picking a boy's name, I look around. Behind me stand Ariel and Kira, who both look uneasy. I'm positive neither of them will volunteer after all. A bit farther back, I see Avette, who's struggling to fight back tears as she stands on crutches, a huge cast on her leg. It looks pretty bad, even with a giant white block around it.

I look back up at the stage.

"Oops. I think this is a boy. I must've gone to the wrong bowl. Oh well, our boy for the 74th Hunger Games is Alex Stone."

Alex, who's only fifteen, doesn't look very scared at all. He just looks behind him, waiting for Cato to run out and save him, which he does. I hear Cato bellow our famous words. He looks delighted as he struts up to the main stage with his vest on.

"Oh, excellent! What a charming young man!" says the purple thing who is supposedly a human from up on the stage. By the time Cato's up on stage, Doris is moving right over to the bowl that has my name in it three times. By the time she reaches the microphone, people are still cheering for Cato. Whistles resound around the square as Cato has a brilliant smile from ear to ear. Then it disappears. He looks at the escort and then into the crowd of girls around me. He stares directly at me.

"Where is she?" asks Doris. Oh, no. She's already said the name. Everyone was still cheering that hardly anyone heard her. I guess I'll just wait to see someone walk out to find out who it ended up being. But nobody does.

"Clove, where are you dear?" I barely hear her say into the microphone. My eyes grow wide as everyone in front of me turns around to look at me. I'm the unlucky tribute this year. Nobody's going to step up and volunteer.

"Oh my god," whispers Brit through the eerie quietness, "I—I'll volunteer for you."

"No," I tell her, "There's no point. You need to train. Wait until you're truly ready." I honestly don't think Brit stands a chance yet. Call me selfish, but I have a better shot at winning than she does. Before Doris can yell at me for not coming up, I make my way out of the crowd, every eye on me. I slowly walk forward, escorted by four peacekeepers, up to the stage. Cato has the most unknowing expression on his face. I don't think he believes what he sees. I don't either, to be honest. I never even thought about my name being picked until a moment ago.

"Well then. No volunteers?" asks Doris to the silent crowd. I must look so embarrassed. Nobody wants to volunteer for Clove today. I find Grandma in the crowd. She isn't happy at all. But nothing in this world can make her cry. She's not a weakling. I'm not going to cry either. The Games have already started for me, whether I want them to or not. Other tributes will be able to see me right now on camera.

My face changes instantly from shocked to ruthless. I put on a slight grin as Doris asks for us to shake hands. Cato sees this and knows too that now's not the time to feel bad. We'll save it for the train. Now we have to look intimidating if either one of us is getting out of the arena. At this point, I don't know whether I'd like to help him win or get back home myself. I think I value my own victory over this boy, but something else is tugging on me; something I can't quite get a feel for yet.

"Thank you all for coming. We're going to have a great year. Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

At this, people begin to scatter. Grandma starts fighting through the crowd as Doris pulls me and Cato inside the Justice Building. Before we can say one word to each other, we're separated into two rooms to say our goodbyes. This has all happened so fast. Just five minutes ago I was standing and cheering for Cato, and suddenly realizing I'd be going into the arena alongside him.

I'm sitting in a hard chair in a small office when my Grandma bursts into the room. Her and Brit will be my only goodbyes today before I'm hauled off to the Capitol to be prepped for the arena.

"Oh, Clove," she says, pulling me into a hug. She rarely shows much real affection, but now's one of those few moments where she really means what she says. "You can do it. I know you can. You've trained for eight years now. Most of these tributes will only train for a few days. The only ones you have to worry about are your allies. You stay in that alliance until the end. That'll be your only way out of there. Don't become very good friends with them if you plan on coming home."

"But Cato—," I protest. She puts a finger over my mouth.

"Sacrifices will be made in the arena. Everyone makes them. I had to give up on my District partner in order to win. It'd be best for you not to get too attached." She seems very calm, as if she saw this coming for years. I guess she knew I'd be in this position eventually. I just never thought it would be so soon.

I suddenly realize there's nothing to be sad about. This is what I've always wanted. It's just come as a little early surprise is all. But then there's Cato. I don't even want to think about how I'll get myself out of that one yet.

"I trust you Clove. Don't disappoint me. You're better than your mother was, and I mean it. Never give up. Fight for me. Fight for District 2." The Peacekeepers come in and eventually escort her out. She doesn't fight them. She walks out without turning back. That's how I know she truly meant what she said. She has faith in me.

It takes about ten minutes for them to get Brit into the room. She's crying. In fact, I can hear her sobbing outside the door before she steps in. I think she tried to regain some dignity before standing before me.

"Don't cry, Brit." I stand u and walk over to hug her, "Victors don't cry. So you'd better stop now."

"Does that mean you're coming home? Since you're not crying?" I think about what she says and what it means. Then I give her a very confident yes. I finally decide that even if it means losing Cato, I'm going to fight to get back home to District 2. I can't let a friend get in the way of the title I've dreamed of earning. Clove Taylor: Victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games. That has a better ring to it, to be honest.

"The rest of our time is spent in a hug, and she slowly stops crying before the Peacekeepers open the door. She squeezes me harder, wishing me luck, saying all of the necessary and painfully obvious things like find food and find knives. Obviously I'm going to find knives; she doesn't need to worry about that.

After she leaves, I sit back down for another fifteen minutes before the Peacekeepers call me out. Cato's standing on the other side of the hall, glaring at me. Maybe he's also decided to put the Games before me. I wouldn't blame him since I've done that exactly. But he doesn't look as excited for this as he was before my name got called. I'm sure that'll change by the time the Games begin.

"There you two are," says Doris from the stage of the Justice Building, "The train is waiting for us."

Cato and I, separated awkwardly by a few Peacekeepers, get lead out of the Justice Building, across the square, which is now empty and quiet except for a few straggling families who are celebrating another year of their child's safety. Parents in District 2 never really have to worry though. This was probably the first year ever they had to worry for their daughters. Too bad I got picked instead.

We go up to the train station platform, where the train I came on has already left. Grandma is on her way home, probably to watch the District 1 reaping and the rerun of our reaping. Although, the reapings are so fast, they're probably airing the one in 3 or 4 by now.

We load onto the train, and as soon as the doors close, the train slowly starts to hum like it did before, and in a matter of seconds we're starting to move. I look out the closest window as District 2 flashes by. Our train ride will only be about four hours, while the train rides in places like District 11 or 12 will take about a day.

"Go ahead and get comfortable you two," says Doris in her unmistakable Capitol accent. She leaves the car, either to go to her private room or to get our mentor, who I noticed at the reaping. Her sharp, golden teeth are too famous not to recognize.

Cato and I sit down and look at each other. We both say hello for the first time since yesterday. I think we're both feeling a little awkward, unable to tell if the other wants our friendship or wants us dead.

"We're going to be allies, right?" I ask. Cato lets out a breath of built up air as if he's relieved.

"Of course. I was just waiting for you to say something." We both smile. I would have laughed, but I don't think now's the right time. Suddenly, the car door slides open, and a woman anyone from District 2 would recognize steps through the doorway.

"Alright, let's get to work," says Enobaria through her razor sharp teeth.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Journey to the Capitol**


	3. Journey To The Capitol

"District 1. They're probably the most stuck up and arrogant of all the tributes every year. But they're also probably the strongest. My bet is that both of them will be volunteers. No matter how hard it'll be, you have to get to know them in training."

Every word has a sort of lisp as Enobaria speaks. It's as if she's part snake. The golden coated teeth in her mouth probably alter her speech. It's not an annoying lisp. It's actually kind of cool.

"Clove, the girl's going to annoy the crap out of you. Just deal with her until the Careers split up, then I don't care what you do to her. After all, I ripped my District 1 girl's throat out with my won teeth."

I nod as she turns to Cato who sits next to me. "Cato, the boy from 1 is going to be just as strong as you, most likely. He'll be trying to size you up constantly throughout the time in the arena. Don't let him feel like the dominant one. You have to show leadership in the group." Cato nods too, and then Enobaria stands and says, "Let's take a look at our glamorous tributes from District 1, shall we? Their reaping was about two hours ago, so they're most likely arriving in the Capitol as we speak."

Enobaria turns on the giant flat screen on the train's wall. As soon as it turns on, we see reruns from past Hunger Games. I notice Lyme, Brutus, and Enobaria, the most famous of our past victors. Enobaria has definitely stayed fit since she won the Games. She doesn't look even ten years older, yet she won her games about twenty years ago. She then flips through to a rerun of the District 1 reapings.

District 1 is definitely the richest District. It's no Capitol, but they're definitely pampered more than the rest of the Districts. They're like the Capitol's sidekick. District 1 will always be there to do the Capitol's bidding.

"Oh, look! There's Iris! She's my best friend, that girl!" exclaims Doris. I roll my eyes as Doris points a purple finger at the woman on the screen who stands on the stage of the Justice Building in District 1. This woman is even crazier than Doris. She must be a really special lady to have been assigned to be the escort for District 1. If she's anything like Doris, I don't know how that's possible.

Unlike Doris, Iris actually calls out the girls' name first. Before she even gets the full name out, I see a tall blonde girl jump out from the crowd and volunteer with a wicked smile. She looks malicious and ready to kill. Just like everyone from District 1. Just like Cato. Just like me.

She struts up to the stage and says her name loud and proud for everyone to hear. Her hair is in pigtails and she looks absolutely atrocious. She's definitely trying her best to impress the Capitol citizens with that look. Glimmer. I understand Enobaria already. She doesn't look as delightful as she makes herself seem.

Then, the boy volunteers just as Iris even pulls a name out of the bowl.

"I've got to read the name, silly!" says Iris with the standard Capitol accent. But the boy jogs up to the stage regardless. He's just as ready as Glimmer is. He's tall; probably even taller than Cato. He looks like he's just won a thousand dollars or something. His name is Marvel. How… marvelous.

"Typical District 1 Duo right there. In fact, that Glimmer girl; there's probably about a thousand more of her in that crowd of girls," says Enobaria with a vitriolic tone. I do notice a lot of blonde girls with pigtails in the crowd; although some of them look a little sad compared to Glimmer. I guess there were more girls willing to volunteer this year than there were in District 2, otherwise I wouldn't be on this train right now.

I then start to think about how I'm going to have to kill these two people I've just seen on the television if I'm expecting to get back home. It'll be no problem really. I think the biggest challenge will be restraining myself from slitting Glimmer's neck too early on. I'm already not a big fan of her and we haven't even met yet.

The television then changes to a live feed from the Capitol of Glimmer and Marvel stepping out of the train into the main station. They're waving and smiling, which is exactly what someone who plans on winning does. These two are both determined, just like Cato and I. I'm interested to see how they fight during training, and more importantly: in the arena.

Then we jump to a recap of the District 3 reapings. The girl walks up, almost tripping on one of the stairs. She's very tall, but doesn't look intimidating at all. She's crying, which is the first mistake anyone can make in the Games. She'll definitely be dead by the first night. The boy also looks a little scared, although he does a better job at hiding it. He looks smart. Maybe it'll help him in the arena.

District 4 comes with a volunteer from the girls. She has pitch black hair and tan skin. She says her name is Alice, but I don't catcher her last name. The boy gets reaped, and I don't bother to remember his name. He doesn't look very useful to us.

"That volunteer. Get her on your side, too. She could be useful," says Enobaria next to us. We then cut to District 5. I see a quiet, calm girl with striking red hair walk up. Again, I don't bother remembering her name. There's no chance she'll be able to outlast me. The boy also doesn't seem much of a threat. He looks strong, but then again most boys look more intimidating than they actually are. I'll just let Cato take care of him.

Then we cut to District 6, where the reaping has just finished in real time. The girl is crying, and the boy is trying very hard not to cry as they get shuffled by their orange escort into the Justice Building.

"That's all they've done so far. They're about to start in District 7. I don't think there's much to watch for now. The rest of the Districts hardly ever get a winner. Especially from 12. District 12 has only ever seen one victor in Hunger Game history!" spits Enobaria through her gold teeth.

"Who?" I ask after the three of us share a giggle.

"His name's Haymitch. He won the second Quarter Quell," says Enobaria. I look at her with wide eyes in disbelief.

"Wait. That's the one where there were twice as many tributes. Someone from 12 won that year? That's a little disappointed to be honest. You'd think someone from 2 would have the heart to bring us home that important of a crown," says Cato with a tone of disgust.

"He's a swell guy, to be honest. I've talked with him a few times since he mentors every year. Must be pretty traumatic to meet two new kids every year and see them get slaughtered. You guys go easy on those kids from 12, alright? Make it nice and quick for Haymitch."

I laugh when I notice something outside the window. Some flicker of light; a reflection off some shiny object in the distance. I stand from where I'm sitting and look closer. It's a tall, glistening array of buildings. The Capitol.

"Oh my God, there it is!" I say with excitement. I've only ever seen this place on television, and so I'm witnessing it for the first time. Cato and I stare out the window in awe, our faces pressed up against the glass. Enobaria's probably rolling her eyes at us at how childish we must look. We don't care. This is the beginning of the moment we've been waiting for all our lives.

After a few more minutes, we pull into the station that lies on the outskirts of the Capitol, and as soon as we step outside the train's door, piercing screams from the citizens floods my brain.

Here they are, cheering for Clove Taylor, the victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

**Next Chapter: The Volunteer From District 12**


	4. The Volunteer From District 12

Before we know it, Cato and I are thrown into a high-tech car that transports us to the Tribute Center, where we'll spend the majority of the next week before the Games start. I'm thankful for this week, because I have no idea what I'm going to do about this entire situation with Cato. My stomach turns in knots just thinking about it.

When we get there, we're moved to our prep rooms. They're bright, lit up rooms filled with materials to take us from normal to Capitol-approved. Although they look like puke themselves, the prep teams really know how to make us look stunning.

As I lay on the small prep bed, a short, plump lady with frizzy black and white hair begins to hose me down. I almost want to cover myself, since I'm not used to being completely naked around others like this. When I get a good look at her, she has pitch black eyes. She looks like a skunk.

"Are you my designer?" I ask.

"No," she says, "I'm Nora. I'm on your prep team. I must say, you're quite a looker for such a young girl. I can't wait to work with you this week! Oh! and here are your other prep team members." Two other women walk into the room. I feel really uncomfortable. One of them has eyes the color of vomit.

"I'm Venus," she says. Vomit, Venus… same thing. If vomit were red, that's what her hair color would be. Bloody vomit. I try not to laugh.

The other has red hair too, but it's more natural. It reminds me of the sly looking girl's hair from District 5. Even though her hair wasn't Capitol-esque, her skin definitely was. It was covered in a gold powder.

"And my name is Rose," she says. Maybe her hair hasn't been dyed. She should win an award for that kind of accomplishment. They begin waxing and washing me right away. Nora, Venus, and Rose all work together to make me look like a flawless girl, which is to be expected from a Hunger Games victor. I smile when they're done with me and I look in a mirror. Then a fourth woman walks in.

"Stunning," she says in a deep voice. I turn to get a good look at her. She has aqua hair. Along with this hair comes a similar colored skirt.

"My name's Aqua. I'm your designer!" Oh, how ironic that your name matches your hair. Is it natural? These women are making me giggle to myself. Hope they don't catch on.

"So tomorrow night I'm going to dress you up and make you look like a shining star! You'll be a shoe-in for these Games!" she says, "But for now, I'll have Nora bring you up to your room." I nod and put my clothes back on. Nora guides me out of the room and to the lobby, where we mount a glass elevator.

"Up we go," she says. She presses a button with the number 2, and we soar up for only a few seconds before reaching our level. She doesn't get out of the elevator, so I assume I'll be able to find my own way to my room. Doris, Cato, and Enobaria are already hanging out in the main room. Soft couches and interesting decorations make it up. It's quite inviting.

"There you are," says Enobaria impatiently, "We're gonna watch the rest of the reapings!" She seems a little excited! I have a seat in between her and Cato, who smiles at me, way to awkwardly. Doris turns on the television as two Avoxes bring us a blue drink that tastes wonderful. Grandma's told me all about Avoxes and the Capitol food. If what she says is true, this is sure to be the best week of my life.

District 7's reaping shows up on the television, and we watch as two more names are drawn. The girl is silent, and keeps her eyes closed as she stands before her District. Probably trying to hold back the tears. Maybe she's a fighter, then. The boy is short, and looks like he could handle a spear. Better make sure to take him out in the beginning.

District 8 comes up and again we hear two more names called out. I make a note not to remember most of them. A lot of these will be easy picking, and won't need to be worried about. The girl from 8 is dragged up to the stage by a couple of peacekeepers. She seems like the kind of girl who is used to getting what she wants. Looks like your luck is out, princess. You're going to die. The boy, on the other hand, remains calm. Maybe he'll make it farther than others in these Games. It's too soon to tell.

District 9 rolls around, and Enobaria has been silent. She knows we won't have to worry about these ones. We're just watching out of obligation. It's at least common courtesy to at least _pretend_ you care about the people you'll be killing. All I know is, I hope my knife slices that girl from 8 across the throat. She's already pissing me off.

The girl from 9 also has red hair. Must be a common theme this year. Although, she's crying. The girl from 5 didn't cry at all. The boy from 9 is short. He's probably no older than 13. Poor kid looks like he's about to have a heart attack. If I kill him, I'll try to make it quick.

"Most of these kids seem like the over-confident type. The Games have a good amount of them every year. They'll do better than they expect in training and think they're all of the sudden these crazy, skilled killers, and have the guts to run into the Cornucopia and fight. My advice: Let them kill each other. The bloodbath in the beginning usually knocks out close to half the tributes. If they do most of the work for you, there's no problem," says Enobaria.

As she spoke, District 10's tributes were picked. A short, brunette in hysterics and a tall, quiet boy. Then, before we know it, we're watching District 11, where there's for some reason a plethora of dark skinned people. They hardly exist in District 2, so I watch in awe. Then this poor little girl who has to be 12 steps up to the stage. I kind of feel bad, because I know she'll be first to go for sure. Then this big, burly boy with even darker skin gets called up. He looks almost dead, minus the breathing. His face is stone cold, and he hardly moves. He's the first tribute I've seen that actually scares me a little.

Finally, District 12. I was getting a little bored, to be honest. I watch as some pink haired lunatic shouts out the name of the girl. Great. Another twelve year old I have to kill. A pale blonde with rosy cheeks emerges from the crowd after a few minutes. I notice a lot of people in the crowd of adults are shocked. I guess nobody really likes such a young girl going into the Games.

"Here's where it gets interesting," says Enobaria with a smile. She must have seen it already. As she says it, I see some stirring further back in the crowd. Another girl emerges into the center, yelling at the girl who was picked. Except this girl has dark brown hair and darker skin. Then I hear her shout our famous words.

"Did I just witness a District 12 girl volunteer?" asks Cato, as shocked as the rest of us. Enobaria just smiles. The volunteer walks up to the stage and says her name. Katniss Everdeen. How cute. She volunteered for her darling sister. Honestly, that's a surprise. I don't think I've ever seen siblings volunteer before. She has guts, but maybe she's just trying to look brave. She's very thin, and seems like she hasn't had a decent meal in ages. Nothing to worry about, I assume. Then a stocky blonde boy walks up to the stage nervously. He looks pretty sad. No surprise.

"So, pretty boring mix this year. Except for that volunteer. She's out of nowhere. I wonder if she knows how to fight," says Enobaria. Cato and I laugh. That's not very likely, and we all know it. We go to the dining room and enjoy some roasted chickens. There were a few sides like mashed potatoes, and a few others I was a little less daring to try.

After dinner, I went to my room and got in the shower. My shower at home was nothing compared to this. There were hundreds of different buttons for different shampoos and soaps. One of them I pushed sprayed me down until I smelled like strawberries. It smelled delicious, so I pressed the button a couple more times to make sure the smell lasted. As I got out and dried off, the girl from 12 started haunting my thoughts.

What if she really is someone to be worried about?


	5. The Opening Ceremonies

"You're all set," says Aqua. I take a look in the mirror and see a beautiful girl dressed in golden armor. I have a matching crown with golden wings sprouting on either side. I look strong, I look intimidating. It's perfect.

"Wow," I manage to say. Nobody is going to top our outfits. I find Cato outside of my prep room and he's dressed almost identically. He just looks a little stronger, since his biceps are the size of me.

"You look good," he says. The amount of awkwardness between us is pissing me off. I'm scared we'll never be able to talk like we used to. Because at least one of us is going to be dead in a matter of weeks. As weird as it sounds, I hope it's him. I remember to say thank you as we leave to mount our chariots. I nearly forgot this was when I'd be able to see all the tributes in real life. As we enter the lobby of the Tribute Center, I see a line of chariots ready to take off. I see the District 1 duo mounted and ready to go. Glimmer is just as sexy and perfect in real life as she was on the television screen. Is it too early to start killing now?

Cato and I mount the second chariot, and the District 3 tributes follow and mount the one behind us. They look scared of us, which is always a good thing. Glimmer and Marvel stand right in front of us. They turn around at the exact same time, as if they were robots. Glimmer smiles at me and I want to project vomit the color of Venus's hair all over her. Marvel sizes up Cato for a second and then turns back around.

"Remember, don't let him think he's better than you," I remind him. Cato won't take his eyes off Marvel. Those two are gonna have a crazy showdown eventually. It'll be nasty, and I don't want to be around when it happens.

I turn around, and the tributes from 10 are already getting into their chariot. Everyone looks a little nervous. It's good to know I'm not the only one. I take a deep breath. I need to look confident if I'm ever going back to District 2. Then I see her. Just after the scary dark skinned boy mounts his chariot, Katniss Everdeen steps into the lobby in a dark jumpsuit that has a matching cape and headpiece. It's a pretty mediocre costume. At least that won't be getting her sponsors.

Soon enough, Glimmer and Marvel emerge through the front gate into the crowd of Capitol citizens. We follow not ten seconds later, and I put on a winning smile. Cato smiles down at me and I smile back as we roll out onto the street. I get a good look at the people of the Capitol, and I'm almost blinded by all the shockingly bright colors. They go mad for Cato and I. I blow a few kisses and try to catch a few flowers as we zoom through the endless crowd of onlookers.

I look up and see us on the television screen. We're hits. I smile cruelly only because it means we've beat out Glimmer and Marvel. Serves them right. Finally, the camera changes to District 3, but only covers each district for a few seconds. We were able to hold the spotlight for a few minutes. Then District 12 comes up on the screen, and Katniss's costume is not quite what I remember seeing. She's on fire. Why is she on fire?

Her and her blonde District partner are smiling. Shouldn't they be in pain? Either way there's an immediate uproar among the crowds. People are going crazy over them and I'm starting to get mad. After a few minutes, they're still the only tributes being featured. They've been on the screens far longer than Cato and I were. Glimmer turns around and frowns at me. At least we can agree on something. Cato isn't smiling anymore.

Soon enough, we pull into the City Circle and all the tribute chariots form a crescent in front of President Snow's mansion. He steps out onto his balcony. I don't have time to listen to what he's saying. I'm a little too busy devising the deaths of Katniss Everdeen and her innocent-looking blondie. It's kind of a shame; he's almost as good looking as Cato.

The President wishes us luck and says the famous words, "May the odds be ever in your favor." Hopefully, they are, I think to myself. We pull away back to the Tribute Center as the crowds disperse to return home. When we get back, Cato and I glare at Katniss and her district partner, who we learn is named Peeta when they are loudly congratulated by their prep team. Katniss sees us looking at her, and we try to look as intimidating as possible. Her eyes shy away, and we both smile at each other afterwards. We're doing good work. Now if only we could hold the audience's attention longer than them.

We go up to the second floor and have another wonderful dinner served by the Avoxes. After dinner, I shower myself in strawberry scents and head to bed. I need to get as much sleep as possible, since I sure as hell won't be getting any in the arena.


End file.
